


Too Late

by TheUmbraphage



Series: Entropy and Conquest [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adopted Child, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Professors, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Conspiracy Theories, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Government Conspiracy, M/M, Mad Scientists, Mentioned bullying, Post-Divorce, Same-Sex Marriage, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Slice of Life, Sort Of, The Conclave explosion never happened, and sometimes not so seriously, loosely based off of The Big Bang Theory, marriage problems, mentioned depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUmbraphage/pseuds/TheUmbraphage
Summary: Solas wakes up 600 years after 9:42 Dragon in the technology age where magic has died out inexplicably 300 years ago. Everything has gone utterly, completely wrong and he has taken it upon himself to find out where it went wrong and how to fix this mess with the help of his less-than-helpful research partners Dorian Pavus and Mahanon Lavellan.Of course, life only gets more complicated now that Solas has to juggle being a junior professor for the extra pay and yet another Lavellan enters his life with a parade of issues.--Since this is an AU, it isn't necessary to read the other works in the series. Also, feel free to drop in-universe prompts by at my Tumblr or in my inbox; there isn't really a big plot here until later.





	1. Prologue

All of his bones and muscles ached when he awoke to the dim light of the cave. He slowly sat up, squinting through the darkness and coughing slightly as he inhaled the musty air.

Something was wrong. _Everything_ was wrong.

He looked behind him at the Eluvian gateway, but it did not provide as bright of a glow as when he first laid down beside it in exhaustion, after he emerged victorious locking away the false gods. Instead it emitted a sickly light, as though it was dying away. He reached out a hand to feel for his stave in panicking, relaxing once he felt its familiar cold metal.

It was dusty and grimy, and he was certain he could feel rust without even seeing it. Frowning, he summoned the Fade to cast a light from his stave.

The light was weak when it sparked alive, but as soon as it appeared, it faded from existence.

This was _even more wrong._

He attempted reaching into the Fade himself, trying to draw its power to make a flame, spark, anything, but he was met with heavy resistance. It felt as though his hand was pressing against the thick, gelatinous fluid that was the Veil, but it was too thick for his hand to even pass into the Fade.

 _No._ No, no, this was not how it was supposed to be!

He stood, stumbling slightly from years of his limbs’ disuse, and leant on his stave for support. Once he regained his balance, he started at a jog headed for the exit of the cave. His echoing footsteps quieted once he made it to open air, the open night sky above him. Far below him and the mountain he stood on was a magnificent city with towering buildings in the distance. Everything emitted light of a multitude of colors from the skyline. Undoubtedly the lights were much too bright to be from flames and had to have been generated by magic. But why wouldn’t he be able to access his magic?

Unexpectedly, a dull roar was heard in the distance and it grew louder. A dragon? Immediately, he prepared to duck for cover, but when he looked up at the sky, something else entirely shocked him.

A winged metal contraption slowly descended from the heavens toward someplace several miles from the city, its structure entirely solid and frigid as lights blinked from either wing. Its constant roar was loudest when it flew directly over him, but it immediately began to fade away once it left the area.

It was clear by now that he knew where he was, but not when he was. Letting out a worried breath, he started down the mountain toward civilization, where he would learn some information about this new world.

\--

The trek down the mountain was long and he was on the verge of collapse. Lungs burning and lips chapped and burning, he stumbled slightly when he entered the clearing, snapping a twig loudly.

A white light blinded him when someone yelped, “Who’s there? I don’t have any food and I would prefer it if you didn’t attack us!”

He shielded his eyes from the light, making out a tall figure—a human?—through the light.

“Um, Dorian, I don’t think that’s a wolf. He’s clearly an elf, like me.” Another voice pointed out in amusement.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the change in lighting, he saw a human pointing a metal tube at him and shining a light through it. He did not sense any magic from it, and he was left wondering how it emitted light without a flame. Near the human sat a caramel skinned elf with pale vallaslin reminiscent of Mythal tattooed below his eyes, staring curiously at him. Both of them were dressed in strange clothes made of unknown fabrics.

“No, but clearly a cosplayer.” The human, Dorian, replied in disdain.

“Now, what would a cosplayer be doing this far away from the city? Besides, there aren’t any cons going on right now.” The elf rolled his eyes. He gestured for him to come closer, face friendly. “Why don’t you join us? You look like you’ve been through hell and back. What’s your name?”

“Solas.” He replied, voice cracking from disuse and he cautiously sat a few feet away from the two. He added, “Do you have any water?”

“Right, yeah. Here.” The elf tossed him a clear bottle. Solas raised an eyebrow at the strange malleable material the bottle was made from, but took no time in twisting the cap off and drinking half of the bottle in a few gulps. He coughed, wiping the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand. “Yikes, have you been lost up here?”

“You can say that.” Solas replied.

“So, it’s just Solas? No last name or ID?” Dorian questioned. “I’m Dorian Pavus, by the way. This man here is Mahanon Lavellan.”

“Pleasure.” Solas nodded to the two. He replied, “I’m afraid not… I believe I’ve fallen out from times. What year is it?”

Dorian scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Oh, that joke. It’s 15:82 Moon.”

Solas’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar date. “Could you perhaps translate that into the Elvhen calendar?”

Dorian was startled by the question. “Er…”

“Hold on, I have internet signal.” Mahanon interjected, pulling out a thin, slender device. It lit up from one side, casting a cool light on his face. He tapped something on it and a strange sound came from the device. “Okay, Samantha. What is the year according to the Elvhen calendar?”

“ _Alright, sexy-_ ” A disembodied female voice came from the device.

Dorian startled to cackle and Mahanon shot him a glare.

“ _According to the Elvhen calendar, it is 9081 FA._ ”

“Thank you, Samantha.” Mahanon replied to the device and turned it off, sliding it into his pocket. He looked up to Solas with a smile, but his smile faded when he saw that Solas was speechless. At this point, Solas did not think he could cover up his background this far displaced in time. Mahanon’s lips fell open, gobsmacked. “Maker’s breath, you’re a time traveller!”

Solas was not sure how to correct Mahanon.

“Now, now, let’s not go jumping into conclusions.” Dorian stopped Mahanon from squealing. “He might still just be a cosplayer who’s incredibly good at acting. Of course, that’s not to say his cosplay is subpar.”

Solas frowned at the insult, though he still did not know what cosplay meant.

“No, no, look! That thing he’s wearing is more authentic than anything I’ve seen at a con or at a renaissance festival!” Mahanon insisted. “Besides, no cosplayer would get his cosplay dirtied like that! And look at the stave on his back! It looks ancient! I bet he’s a mage.”

“There aren’t any mages any more!”

“Not if he came from the past!” Mahanon huffed. He looked to Solas, “You’re from the past, right?”

“Er-”

“Mahanon, this is ridiculous! Worse than your aliens theory!”

“We only make up 0.0001% of this universe so it’s a valid theory!” Mahanon grew visibly upset.

“That part’s valid, but what about the whole tangent about the Chantry capturing visiting aliens and doing experiments?” Dorian argued.

“A war, Dorian! _A war!_ There’s a reason why there’s a cold war between the Imperial Chantry and the chantry Chantry!”

“Pardon, can you please slow down?” Solas interrupted the argument, his head already beginning to hurt.

“Right, sorry.” Dorian sighed. “Are you a time traveller or not?”

Solas took a deep breath. The time traveller background is a convenient one; he wasn’t ready to share anything about being Fen’harel. “...Yes.”

“I knew it!” Mahanon said triumphantly. “How far in the past?”

“Almost a thousand years.” Solas lied.

“Wow.” Mahanon’s eyes practically sparkled at this point.

“Can you get back?” Dorian questioned, expression serious.

“No.” Solas shook his head. “For some reason, I can’t access my magic.”

Dorian nodded, face even more solemn. “Ah, yes. I figured so. Magic just about died out three hundred years ago.”

Solas frowned. So it was not his doing that led to this predicament. “Why?”

“We don’t know.” Dorian sighed.

Mahanon added, “That’s why we’ve been researching this for the past three months.”

“You’re researchers?”

“Yep.” Mahanon smiled. “We’re both experimental physicists working at Frostback University. But, since Dorian just got his Ph.D and I’ve only got my masters, we were just assigned to this project since no one else wanted it.”

“We have limited resources.” Dorian said. He was thoughtful for a moment, rubbing at his stubble with furrowed eyebrows. “Now to think of it, you are incredibly lucky to have found us. If you wandered into the city, you would’ve been written off as a lunatic and carted off to the police station.”

“Or kidnapped by the government and experimented on.” Mahanon whispered. Dorian rolled his eyes. The elf continued, “Anyhow, it looks like you’re stuck with us.”

“Great, you’re going to have an ancient mage as a roommate.”

Mahanon stared blankly at Dorian. “No… I live in a studio and I’m already struggling to pay rent and buy takeout. You’re the one with a two bedroom apartment.”

“No.”

“Dorian, don’t be so cheap!”

“I’m not harboring a fugitive with no ID in my apartment.” Dorian shook his head.

“He’s not a fugitive because he’s not technically illegal.” Mahanon huffed. “Besides, it’ll be fun!”

“ _No._ ”

And so, Dorian found himself a new roommate named Solas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU has been bugging me for awhile, so here's the prologue. Also, this fic won't be updated as consistently as Ice and Steel.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight years later, Solas is alive and kicking.

_15:90 Moon, Haven_

Yet another long day has passed in the lab and their project has not budged. Dorian and Solas tiredly made their way up the stairs to their shared apartment.

“So, how’s professorship treating you, Solas? The pay must be good.” Dorian asked in effort to start conversation.

“It is an interesting experience.” Solas replied. “However, a lot of students requested me this year, so the classroom is unusually cramped.”

“Oh, you’re one of _those_ professors.” Dorian gave Solas an amused sidelong glance. Solas raised an eyebrow.

“Meaning?”

“Either you were a great tutor, which I haven’t seen you being,” Solas rolled his eyes at the insult, “Or you’ve been upgraded to being that one attractive professor everyone wants.”

“Surely the students wouldn’t pursue such inanity.” Solas scoffed.

“You’d be surprised at how inane some undergraduates are.”

“Hm.” They came to a stop at their front door, but their attention was drawn to an open door across the hall. Unpacked boxes littered the apartment across the hall, and a dark haired elf was to be seen, pushing a sofa into position in his living room. “New neighbor?”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Huge improvement from the crossdressing weeaboo. Look at those biceps.”

“Dorian.”

The Tevinter smirked at Solas, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and winking. Solas honestly thought he looked ridiculous, especially with that new mustache he grew out. “Jealous much?”

Solas appeared scandalized by the mere thought. “Jealous? Of you and your flamboyant fashion?”

“That wasn’t quite what I was suggesting, but whatever floats your boat.” Dorian sighed. He brushed his hair with his fingers, rearranging it so it didn’t look like he was trying to rip it out in frustration just an hour before, and strode over to the open door. “Good evening! I take it you’re new here?”

Solas bit his tongue from remarking Dorian’s penchant for the obvious.

The elf jumped, startled by Dorian’s voice. He spun around, eyes wide. Solas noted that this elf must be Dalish, based on his vallaslin in remembrance of Dirthamen. “Oh, hi! You’re the neighbors?”

“The only. On this floor at least. Except for the bartender who lives right next to you, but I’m sure she’s out tonight.” Dorian smiled. He extended his hand, “I’m Dorian. My roommate is Solas. He doesn’t talk much.”

Solas huffed, but smiled cordially. “Hello.”

The elf smiled back at the two, shaking Dorian’s hand and then Solas’s. “That’s… Nice. I’m Eolin.”

Dorion paused for a moment before sputtering, “Um, no, we are roommates but we live in two platonic bedrooms.”

Eolin chuckled, eyebrow raised. “Oh, alright.”

“Your name is Eolin, right? Would you happen to be the friend that Mahanon told us is moving in town?” Solas inquired. Eolin nodded in affirmation.

“I take it you must be Mahanon’s research partners, Dr. Pavus and Dr. Fenin?”

“He told you about us?” Solas raised an eyebrow.

“Of course! I’ll be working at the university anyways, so Mahanon thought it a good idea to tell me everything.”

Dorian and Solas slowly exchanged worried glances. “Everything?”

“Well, yeah. I know that you, Solas, are a prodigy and got an honorary Ph.D in only six years after you woke up an amnesiac.”

Solas relaxed slightly. “Right. Are you a researcher too?”

Eolin nodded. “Yes, but not on the same project you’ve been working on. Your project is confidential, yeah? I’m doing research into artificial intelligence on top of teaching multivariable calculus.”

“Neat.” Dorian praised. “Speaking of which, Mahanon is coming by for dinner tonight. You should join us!”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“We don’t mind. Dinner’s at 7, so please come by.”

“Well, thank you. I’ll see you soon, then.” Eolin agreed sheepishly. The trio bid their farewells before Solas and Dorian slipped into their apartment. Dorian let out a long sigh and collapsed onto the couch, while Solas went to the kitchen to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

“Mahanon’s a ticking bomb, I swear.” Dorian groaned. “He shares too much when he gets excited.”

“He at least had the decency to not talk about _it._ ” Solas pointed out.

“We might have to remind him again. Just to be safe.”

\--

They had made room for Eolin at the coffee table for Antivan takeout, but _Sera?_ The crazy bartending neighbor? Dorian and Solas were beginning to regret having a friend gathering.

“And you know what I told him? I told him to shove his drink up his arse and I threw a pie in his face.” Sera cackled from where she was perched on the arm of the couch while she sipped from her beer.

“ _Andraste,_ ” Eolin chuckled, “You’re even worse than I remembered in law school.”

“Well, I age like fine wine, don’t I?” Sera snorted. “Anyways, I’m glad you took my advice and moved here. It’s been too long.”

“How exactly did you and Sera know each other?” Mahanon asked, still befuddled at the unexpected friendship between the two.

Eolin took a swig of his beer first before replying, “So, you know how I went to law school before I went to grad for computer science?” Mahanon nodded. “Sera’s dad was my professor in my Trial Advocacy class.”

Sera wrinkled her nose in disgust, “ _Augh,_ don’t bring up my dad!”

“Right, sorry. So anyways, Sera always hung around campus on her off days from high school and was a major prankster.”

“You were a prankster too.”

“Touche.” Eolin smirked.

Solas steered the conversation away from the topic, “So, Eolin, what brings you to Haven?”

Eolin’s smile faded slightly. Mahanon and Sera turned to glare at Solas, but the eldest elf only frowned. Eolin coughed, setting his beer down. He unconsciously rubbed at his left ring finger as he said, his voice weaker than normal, “Just some financial troubles. The apartment here is cheaper after all.” Eolin looked at the clock of the wall. “Oh, it’s getting late already! I have an 8 am class to teach tomorrow, so I better be going to bed soon.”

“Oh, sorry for keeping you up so late.” Dorian apologized. Eolin shook his head as he stood.

“Oh, it’s fine. Thank you for having me. Good night!” With that, Eolin took his leave. Once the door shut behind him and they heard the sound of Eolin’s front door shutting across the hall, Mahanon and Sera turned their attention to Solas.

Solas shifted uncomfortably under their harsh gaze.

“How could you ask that?” Sera snapped. “Lawyer guy’s still raw-”

Mahanon slapped his hand over her mouth, muffling her speech. He hissed, “That’s Eolin’s secret, Sera!”

Sera’s eyes widened and she nodded. Mahanon slowly let go of her. Sera turned to glare at Solas, “Just be more careful next time or I’ll stab your eye out in your sleep.”

“...Right.” Solas nodded slowly, deciding not to chance it with Sera around.

Mahanon sighed, “Sorry, Solas. Eolin’s just been going through some tough times.”

“No, it’s my fault. I should have been more careful.” Solas shook his head.

Intriguing though was Eolin. He wondered if he could learn more about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who reads this... Thank you for putting up with my crack writing. If you have any thoughts, I'd love to hear them!
> 
> I really don't think this fic will become really serious until way later, so there'll be lots of short chapters.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eolin signs his soul over to Dorian and Solas.

“Dorian, are you sure you got this?” Solas raised an eyebrow at the Tevinter struggling immensely at the keyboard, staring at the five hundred lines of code on the screen.

“I’m certain I’ll get this right. I took a few coding classes in undergrad.”

“That was over ten years ago.” Solas pointed out, sipping from his cooling coffee as he leaned against the desk.

“Hush.” Dorian huffed as he continued to type, fingers dancing across the keys with several consecutive clicks. Several clicks and clacks later, he pushed away from the desk, letting himself roll away in his chair. “There! It’s done! Solas, would you kindly do the honors of running the program?”

“Did you save it?”

“Yes- Wait.” Dorian pulled himself back to the desk, clicking the save button. “There.”

Solas shook his head slightly at Dorian before running the program. He and Dorian turned to the containment field several feet away, holding their breaths in anticipation. The metal frame-like device in the field came to life with a hum. Several cone-like emitters running along the frame shifted to point inwards, and the hum grew increasingly louder. Waves of energy appeared within the device, but suddenly the energy was disrupted and a deafening screech came from the machine.

Dorian and Solas cringed at the sound and Dorian shouted over the noise to shut off the program. Solas quickly ended the program and the device turned off, leaving them in silence.

Solas looked at Dorian in exasperation, “Ten years and you think you got your programming down?”

Dorian groaned, letting his head fall on the desk with an exhausted thud. “I’ve been working on this program for days without sleep. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

Solas sighed. “Dorian, none of us are programmers. Clearly we don’t have the right expertise.”

“The right expertise…” Dorian hummed thoughtfully, turning his head to look at the paperweight on the desk beside him. “The right… _Expertise!_ ” Dorian sat up so violently that he startled Solas, and the elf accidentally spilled his coffee on himself. Solas hissed and quickly grabbed tissue from the dispenser to soak up the hot liquid from his button up shirt. Thankfully the coffee had cooled down a bit and wasn’t scalding hot.

Dorian stood and grasped Solas by the shoulders, his eyes wild. He shook the elf excitedly, “Solas! That’s right! We need someone with the right expertise!”

Solas leaned away from Dorian, coughing and almost gagging when he caught whiff of Dorian’s breath. So even the flamboyant, incredibly hygienic Tevinter can forgo his routines when he overworks himself. Solas grimaced when he met Dorian’s eyes, “I thought that was obvious. There hasn’t been enough funding for ages to hire any other specialists.”

“No.” Dorian let go of Solas and hurried out the door. He called over his shoulder, “But I can find volunteers!”

“ _Dorian!_ ”

\--

When Dorian returned an hour later, he had returned washed up and changed into a clean set of clothes. Trailing behind him was Eolin, who was dressed casually in a long sleeve henley and jeans.

Solas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Dorian, this is not a good idea.”

“Eolin got his masters and Ph.D in computer science and mathematics.” Dorian pointed out. Solas ignored Dorian and turned to Eolin.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t have to come. Isn’t it your day off?”

Eolin waved off Solas’s concerns. “It’s fine. Dorian said it’s DEFCON 1. What’s going on?”

Before Dorian could reply, Solas looked sharply to the Tevinter. “Nothing is going on.”

Dorian glared at Solas before turning to Eolin. “I need your expert opinion on my code.”

“Sure.” At Eolin’s response, Dorian led him to the desktop and pointed to the program on the screen.

“I have the pseudocode written on this notepad.” Dorian handed his yellow notepad to Eolin and immediately took a step back when Eolin sat down in front of the screen.

The elf squinted at the code, scrolling as he read through it. A slight frown formed at his brow as he started, and it only grew deeper as he continued reading. He let out a long sigh, face falling into his hands. “Oh, Maker…”

“What?” Dorian questioned. “What is it?”

“How much programming do you know?”

Dorian averted his eyes. “Well, I took three classes back in undergrad. I was a stellar student.”

“I’m sorry, but your code looks like a 6th year primary wrote it. It’s filled with so many redundancies.” Eolin’s face was impassive when Dorian looked almost offended. “I’ll have to rewrite the whole thing. Get back to me in a few hours.”

With that, Eolin pulled out his mp3 player and inserted his earphones before he started anew in a new file.

“A _6th year!_ ” Dorian huffed, crossing his arms.

“I told you.” Solas rolled his eyes. “Care to get some more coffee?”

“Ugh, don’t mention that word around me. Tea is better.”

\--

Dorian stared, utterly gobsmacked, at Eolin’s revised code. “Only 126 lines?”

“Yep.”

“That’s a fourth of how many lines I wrote!”

Eolin sipped from his can of pop as he leaned back in the office chair. “Yep.”

“How in Thedas did you do that?”

Eolin lazily waved his fingers at Dorian. “Magic.”

Dorian stared at Eolin with a deadpan expression. He shook his head and glanced to Solas, “Let’s test it.”

“Now?” Solas raised an eyebrow, glancing at Eolin cautiously.

“Now.” Dorian nodded.

“Dorian,” Solas said warningly, “I don’t think this is the time.”

“Now’s a better time than ever.”

Eolin sighed, standing. “Look, if you need me to leave…”

“Oh no, you can’t leave either.” Dorian shook his head, grabbing Eolin’s shoulder and pushing him back down. Eolin began to look nervous when Dorian fixed a serious gaze upon him.

“Why the hell not?”

Solas strode over to the door and locked it. He spoke, “You being here compromised the confidentiality of our research.”

Eolin froze, blinking at the two before he groaned in dread. “Oh, I just got myself into some pretty deep shit, didn’t I? Please, can’t I leave and pretend this never happened? I have a life, you know.”

“You saw the code! You can’t pretend that nothing happened!” Dorian crossed his arms. “Not until you sign the NDA!”

“Do you honestly think I’m going to steal your research? I don’t even know what you’re doing. You blacked out the purpose of the code with black permanent marker, for Maker’s sake!” Eolin pointed out, infuriated.

“If you tell that to the president of the research department, I doubt she would believe you.” Solas replied, his voice more gentle than Dorian’s panicked voice. Eolin looked at Solas, considering his words. Eolin finally sighed and relaxed.

“Fine. Sign me to the devil. What’s going on with this project of yours?”

“You’ll see.” Solas replied. “Let’s run the code.” He reached over and clicked with the mouse to run the code.

The device whirred to life, but this time it stayed at a low hum. Waves of energy appeared again and they energy field remained stable. Slowly, the space in the machine began to twist and stretch. As expected, Solas watched the space warp until it looked like a thin sheet of smooth water, as though he was looking through a clear pool into the bottom, and a familiar shade of green glowed from within its depths.

“Amazing. It’s really green.” Dorian murmured. “I remembered stories of Fade my father told me, passed on from generations before him. Too bad Mahanon can’t be here to see it today.”

Eolin was shaken out of his stupor when Dorian spoke of the Fade. He stiffened. “Wait, that’s the Fade? Will demons come spurting out of it?”

Solas shook his head. “No. Based on my calculations, this isn’t a rift⸺not yet anyways. We can only leave this on for maybe fifteen minutes at a time before it can turn into a rift.”

“How do you know this?”

“I work among theories, remember?” Solas smiled slightly, amused by Eolin’s question.

“Eight years of work and we’ve come to this.” Dorian mused. He looked to Solas, “How should we experiment with this?”

Solas responded, “Your family came from a long line of mages before the Great Loss, correct? Try envisioning a small ball of flame in your hands. Don’t worry about it burning you. You too, Eolin.”

“Me?” Eolin was startled by Solas’s request.

“It’s just an experiment.”

Eolin nodded and focused on the palm of his hand. A small flame appeared at his fingertip. He stared wide-eyed at the flame, examining it from all angles as he rotated his hand. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

A fireball, meanwhile, flashed in Dorian’s hands and it went up in smoke as soon as it appeared. Dorian coughed, waving the smoke away. “That certainly proves something. Magic is either genetic or inherent, but the problem is with the Veil.”

“Just as I predicted.” Solas sighed. He turned the device off from the computer, and the not-rift disappeared from view. “Something happened 300 years ago that caused this abnormality.”

“What could have thickened the Veil to this degree?” Dorian wondered.

“That is indeed the question, isn’t it?” Solas hummed, eyebrows furrowed.

Eolin coughed from his seat, garnering their attention because he spoke, voice light, “So, this is some pretty serious stuff, but you’ve definitely caught my attention. Where do I sign my soul over?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't sign your soul over to theoretical and experimental physicists, guys. Read contracts thoroughly. This is an important life lesson
> 
> Just some important things:
> 
> NDA - non-disclosure agreement
> 
> DEFCON 1 - military terminology for "shit's done hit the fan"


End file.
